More Than Friends (The Warriors) by Laura Taylor Page A

apologize, Leah. It comes with the territory, I suspect. Does your head still hurt?" He joined her on the couch, tugged her to his side, and encircled her shoulders with his arm.
    Leah heard his worry and could have kicked herself for acting like such a big baby. "The headache’s gone, and my bruises are even more colorful now. Despite the sporadic way I’ve been sleeping, I actually feel pretty good."
    "That’s what I wanted to hear."
    "Are you always so patient?" she asked, still amazed by his willingness to treat her with compassion and understanding. "This would be a whole lot easier for you if you turned me over to my family and let them deal with my problems."
    "I’m not that patient," he muttered.
    "I’ve been a royal pain in the ass, and you know it."
    "Well, maybe, but you’re usually pretty pulled together. You’re allowed periodic lapses."
    "Do we have to stay here much longer?" she asked.
    "Of course, not. You aren’t a prisoner, Leah. I just wanted to make sure you had a chance to rest. Now that your headache’s gone, we can leave anytime. Tomorrow, in fact, if you’d like."
    "I’d like," she said enthusiastically.
    "Don’t care for the accommodations, huh?" he groused.
    "The suite is beautiful, and you know it. I just hate feeling like a shut–in."
    He chuckled. "You’ve always had a craving for wide–open spaces."
    "Then I’m behaving in character?"
    "Looks and sounds that way to me."
    "That’s encouraging, isn’t it?"
    She twisted her torso into him in order to get a better view of his face. Her breasts immediately plumped against his chest, her nipples tightening into pointed buds. Fascinated by his reaction, her eyes went wide with surprise. She held her breath, her attention fixed on the muscle that ticked in his jaw as his fingers dug into her shoulder. Even his angular face appeared more dangerous looking than usual.
    She finally found her common sense, but Brett stopped her as she tried to ease back from him. He jerked her against his chest and held her still, leaving her senses to bask in the flex and flow of the muscles in his upper body and the slamming of his heart against his ribs.
    Leah stared at him, her own senses enflamed. She felt seared by the hot glow of his dark gaze. She’d been ready to go up in flames during their first few hours together, and this frozen moment brought it all flooding back in scintillating color.
    He muttered a low, lethal–sounding word, and then he warned, "Quit rubbing up against me like a cat that craves petting, or you’ll get more than you bargained for. I like the feel of you in my arms, just as I’d like nothing better than to strip you naked and bury myself in your hot little body. If you keep this up, Leah, all of my good intentions will go up in smoke, and we’ll both live to regret it."
    She said nothing. She simply nodded. She wanted to be close to him. She wanted to feel his strength and tap into his seemingly bottomless well of courage. She also needed the reassurance she experienced when he held her. She quelled her desire for anything more, although she didn’t expect her longing to experience him sexually to ever end. Not when his desire for her appeared to be just as profound as her own for him.
    Brett leaned his head back and closed his eyes. Leah heard him exhale raggedly as she rested her head against his shoulder. Several minutes ticked by before she felt the tension start to drain from both of their bodies.
    "Were we ever married?" she asked unexpectedly.
    Brett flinched as though he’d been struck. "No, Leah, never."
    She frowned, oddly disappointed to realize that they weren’t lovers and had never been married. The strong emotional currents that flowed between them convinced her then that Brett was keeping something very important from her. She made a silent vow to continue her exploration of their complex relationship.
    "I want to know everything about you, Brett."
    "Not that much to tell."
    She heard a note of